Answer in the Ceiling
by Sheamaru
Summary: While lying in bed with Near, Matsuda realizes that sometimes it's alright to just leave a blank space for an answer. [Matsuda x Near]


**Series/Disclaimer:** Death Note, which I don't own any of the ideas or characters for.  
**Warning(s):** Not even swearing.  
**Chapter OST:** the WOLRD - Nightmare ; All About Us - t.A.T.u

**Author's Note:** **SPOILERS MAY BE IN THIS NOTE**

Yo.

Well this story was spawned from a role-play with the lovely Tao (who might be the only person that gets that last bit of a 'donut' remark if she's been paying good attention to the role-play ) that is, yes indeed, MatsudaxNear!

Before you get your 'wtf'-in' panties in a bunch, let me just say this is actually becoming one of my favorite pairings. Going purely by the series it doesn't make a lot of sense but there are some changes in our universe. And no, Raito isn't alive. Sorry for all you MatsudaxRaito fans but thaaat's not going to happen.

For a bit of a back story, in our role-play another Death Note with a different shinigami has come around (and let me say this new Kira is definitely no Raito. But Tao loves him anyway. I probably will too but I haven't met him yet...he sounds amazing...but I digress!) and Matsuda discovered it. Well, sort of, he met a kid that had seen the shinigami after touching the note book but isn't it's owner...ANYWAY! After much hard work he got in touch with Near (who, as we who finish the series know, is the new L) who came to Japan to investigate the case with him.

Simple as that.

So, this fanfiction, in all it's sweet slash and adorable-ness, was born! Love it, hate it, it's another fanfiction with another silly but adorable pairing. And you may be seeing more of it in the future.

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Maybe he was an incubus. That seemed to be the only logical explanation for the attraction. After all, there was no other way to be drawn-to someone so cold. It was natural to want a person to respond or desire a connection when establishing a relationship. He supposed, for some people, that wouldn't always be true, but Matsuda liked to think that he knew himself at least a little. Enough to know that he liked connecting with people. So, in reality, the icy coating that enveloped Near day in and out did (or should have done) nothing for him. Not emotionally, at least, since Near seemed to have a capacity for compassion equal to that of his Transformer robots that lay abandoned in the room across the hall.

There was always a tightening in Matsuda's stomach when Near responded so bluntly to a question. Even the ones quite nearly outright were questioning his humanity would be shut down with a cold and honest truth. That could have been a good thing, Matsuda tried to convince himself repeatedly. When you had an occupation like Near's, the truth was vital. Facts were the weights on the hyper-sensitive balance of justice. If Near looked at things subjectively, then it would hinder case after case. He would feel guilty for putting criminals away if he considered their reasoning too hard. The world would be in chaos if law enforcement worked that way. It was their responsibility to protect innocent civilians – not criminals.

But then, at the same time, Near treated everything in _life_ that way. He had a way of looking at the world that either chilled Matsuda to the bone or turned his insides to a fiery rage. Human beings, going about their lives in all their strife and glory, weren't much more important than his toys. In fact, human lives seemed considerably _more _expandable to Near. Humans had the capability within them to kill, to destroy, and to break. Any human could have become inclined to murder and they were so susceptible to things. Illness, insanity, and greed just to name a few; but toys weren't this way.

Their plastic was unforgiving and hard. Any actions they took were strict and, best of all, completely controlled. Though Near usually seemed fairly keen to predict people, with his toys they didn't move until he moved them and then only in the ways he wanted them to. Toys didn't destroy things or commit murder…but they also couldn't create or love. That was something that Near was quick to overlook. It was true that people did a lot of bad but weren't they just as capable of good? Matsuda had seen a lot of evil, more in his first few years as a cop than most people in a lifetime, but that didn't stop him from trusting people could be good too. Ide always called him 'a real optimist for a cop' but someone had to be.

In short, Near being an incubus was the only logical explanation. Sure, it was pretty farfetched and he wasn't sure he believed it himself but what else could it have been? Nothing logical was coming to mind or writing itself on the ceiling. Slowly he blinked and for the brief time his eyes were closed he mouthed the hopeful words that when he opened his eyes the answer would be right there in black text, easy to read. Better yet - easy to understand. But still the span of white paint was unmarked and he was left as clueless as he had began. Despite the small disappointment though, a small smile pulled at his lips.

"I don't see anything," Near's voice cut through the silence almost sharp enough to make Matsuda jump. Instead his eyes flew to the other and found he had already started looking at his hand. The soft but chilled fingers were painting completely pointless figures across his chest, cold but not gentle enough to make Matsuda shudder. How long had he been awake doing that?

"What do you mean?" Matsuda questioned, almost forgetting he'd been asked a question at all.

"You said 'the answer will be on the ceiling' but there was nothing there. Why did you smile?" Now Near's eyes, mostly black with a touch of steel blue, moved away from where they had been so intently focused. His hand shifted, skimming along skin before twisting in Matsuda's hair. Delicately he twirled a dark lock around his finger, waiting with ungodly patience for his answer.

It was more than a little difficult to ignore the motion, one that Near frequently did to busy his hands, but he tried anyway. Telling Near what he had been thinking, plain and simple, was out of the question. That would only lead to the blunt end questions that would heighten the awkwardness of having the half-naked genius in his bed. While saying 'no reason' may have lead off into a petty argument of back and forth accusation and denial that would have distracted anyone else, Near was not anyone else and that plan was given a quick and silent death. Being left with the question of how one lies to a genius, passive, practically psychic detective, he looked up to his ceiling. The very space void of answer that got him into this mess. Scanning over its surface, eventually his eyes fell to a neglected corner where a spider's web had formed.

"Let me answer your question with another question-"

"That's a stalling tactic," Near pointed out in all his apathetic glory. His finger separated from Matsuda's hair and instead found sanctuary in his own downy soft curls. The action reminded him of an owner denying a pet a treat when it didn't do as requested and though the connection itself was silly, Matsuda couldn't help but feel a little saddened by Near pulling his hand away.

"What do you think of spiders?" he asked, pushing previous statements and feelings of emptiness aside.

Near blinked slowly before looking around the room and finally spotting the web and focusing like it were a piece of vital evidence to the case that was Matsuda's question. Of course, in order to comfortably see it he had moved and was now even more curled across Matsuda then before, "They're just another arachnid."

"But they kill."

"All animals kill. It's in their nature."

"Why?"

"To survive."

"What about humans?"

Near's answer didn't follow as quickly as the previous. His eyes were still focused on the spider's web clinging to the corner of Matsuda's ceiling while the question itself turned over in his head at the same pace at which he twirled the curl mercilessly grasped in his fingers. There were many answers to Matsuda's question and though there were multiple answers that he probably _wanted _to hear, that wasn't the cause of Near's hesitation. Saying what people wanted to hear was just a pointless formality and, most often, a lie that could resurface later. If you didn't let it get to that point then you wouldn't have to worry about that at all which, in turn, won the game.

The answer Near was looking for was floating around in his head somewhere - as it always was - and he simply needed to close his hand around it. This particular question was sort of annoying in the sense that there was no direct answer. Near did enjoy puzzles quite a bit but Matsuda had continued to remain an unsolvable one. Without a doubt, that was the reason he kept returning and would continue to do so until he figured him out and by that point, he probably would continue just out of habit (saying enjoyment seemed a little outstretched at this point though he did like Matsuda's company at times). In all his years, Near was a glutton for creating silly habits for himself – point one being the need to occupy his hands at all times.

"There are instances where it many be more excusable but many criminals don't arise in cases where survival is the prime cause," Near responded.

"Well you only see extreme cases. By the time they get to you it isn't a matter of survival," Matsuda frowned, "At least in a way that makes it excusable."

Criminals always have the intent to survive, just like regular civilians or, actually a more accurate term, regular humans. But by the time they reached Near, it wasn't 'survival' in a self-defense or even preservation sort of way. It was just running from the Shadow Detective and police, killing or hurting those that got in the way…

"You cried when Yagami Raito confessed, why?" The question was like a steel bat directly to the stomach. Raito had become a file they silently agreed never to discuss or even open yet here they were bringing it up. Maybe Matsuda had been the only one to shake hands in that deal and had taken Near's silence for granted, "Was he too 'surviving'?" He slid back and sat up under the blankets. They tented around him as he pulled his knee up and watched with black hole eyes, "Was that it?"

"No," Matsuda groaned for the simple hope that it would cease the attack of questions. Closing his eyes he tried to watch the day unfold from behind a thick glass wall. Reliving it would be too painful because, really, he'd left behind, but not forgotten, the betrayal. And still Kira had called for his help in the end and Matsuda ached to put a bullet in his head for it, "He was just a criminal in the end."

The expression on Near's face remained stoic and unyielding. While the answer was what he had wanted to hear, this wasn't a time Matsuda seemed interested in humoring him. Actually, there were hardly ever times Matsuda seemed willing to humor him. He still wasn't sure if he liked that or not but he did know that he wouldn't have come to Japan in the first place if it weren't for that stubbornness. Leaning over his legs in a way that would be awkward for anyone but him, he reached forward and once again entwined his finger in the chief of police's hair. Amber-hazel eyes flicked open but only looked to Near after he started to unfurl himself over the expanse of bare chest beneath him. Matsuda's own hands moved up to find delicate hips, usually engulfed in the folds of Near's baggy shirt, and continued on to slide around his equally thin waist. As Near's body, surprisingly warm for one so thin and marble-like, settled against his own he looked away.

Soft, white wisps of hair brushed the underside of his jaw and Near's fingers occupied themselves with lazy intent, "You were looking for an answer about me." Matsuda swallowed; how could he make leaps like that? Was it just impossible for him to lie? Anytime he tried the case seemed to be that Near could figure it out no matter what he said. There wasn't any point in trying to lie, Matsuda noted this multiple times but couldn't bring himself to be so blunt. When Near did figure him out he would do so apathetically and as though it was just another piece of data that made up his life. Yet he always felt there was a chance, however small, that if he were to blurt out something honestly that Near would take offense.

"When I asked you gave a different question that indirectly asked for my view on humans," Near explained flawlessly, "Were you not already questioning me or about me mentally then the topic wouldn't have arose."

"How-" Matsuda began but even the attempt was in vain.

"You have heard me explain myself once before with Yagami Raito, albeit briefly. But you also have now worked alongside me during a case," his voice remained as blank as his stare at the sheets, "My views do not change whether I be working a case at three in the morning or laying in bed at eleven."

And it was always that simple with Near, cut and dry through a brittle argument; he didn't change. No matter who was around him or what trials he faced he remained as unbendable as the ivory he resembled. He hadn't even grown in height since the last Kira case. His voice had not changed, his habits were as strange as ever, and his eyes were still large and calculating. No, Near didn't change; not drastically or much at all. It was hard to tell if he was always in a shell or always exposed. Was there anything underneath what he saw every day or was this simply Near? Had there ever been a 'Nate River' or had it always just been 'Near'?

"And it doesn't bother you," Matsuda said, trying to state it with equal vacancy.

"I have no reason to be." Matsuda's stomach dropped like a pile of bricks or possibly something heavier. It always seemed like Near didn't care but he'd never taken the step to believe it was true. Then again, if he had wanted a real relationship why _did_ he go to Near in the first place? "You smiled, Matsuda-san."

The way he pointed it out didn't carry a single inclination to whether it really made a difference or not. No proof to whether he minded at all that Matsuda had been thinking, good or bad, of him. But while his fingers continued dancing and Matsuda lie there holding him it was plain that he must have cared. At least a little he must have been thankful for Matsuda's smile. A smile signaling, though he may have been questioning, that not having an answer was alright. Little things like that meant volumes beyond what they seemed, especially with Near who's actions would seem to mean so little on the surface. Maybe even looking deeper there was nothing to find but Matsuda had discovered that to rarely be the case; with both of them.

"Right," Matsuda replied and exhaled a smile. Right Near was.

And twenty minutes later, when he came into the kitchen still damp from his shower to ask about having some donuts picked up for breakfast, Matsuda took note that everyone was changeable. Even a detective of white marble who, although slowly, was being chipped away to the human that lie beneath.


End file.
